


blow out the candles and make a wish

by dcuros



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Canon, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 07:02:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19145932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dcuros/pseuds/dcuros
Summary: It's seven in the morning, and Akira's kitchen is a war zone.Oh, and it's also June 2nd.





	blow out the candles and make a wish

**Author's Note:**

> I've been busy with work and PQ2 and Borderlands 2 has eaten my life so this is a week late. But here's an actual birthday fic for the best boy!

Bowls clanged against each other and against the counter of Akira’s tiny kitchen, the sound of metal ringing through the air along with the the smell of brewing coffee. The kitchen had seen better days; batter slowly oozed from an upturned bowl, crawling over flecks of flour of sugar that dusted the counter. Amid the mess stood one messy-haired man, idly mixing the contents of another bowl as he stared at his phone.

“Well, well. Aren’t you up early?” 

Akira startled, and he fumbled to steady the bowl he almost knocked off the counter and catch his phone already on its way to meet the ground. Victorious, he tucked his prize into the safety of his pocket and turned to face the voice, “Oh, Goro... you’re here?” 

“Unfortunately. Whatever you’re up to in here is loud enough to wake the dead,” Goro teased, a light smile dancing across his tired features. The morning sun glinted off his brown hair, barely contained in a messy ponytail, as he padded over to the kitchen’s little breakfast nook to seek sanctuary from the warzone Akira had embroiled the kitchen in. “So what exactly are you making? That seems a little extravagant for breakfast.” 

“I thought I’d make something a little special. Just for you, honey,” Akira replied sheepishly, to which Goro’s brow raised in question.

"For me? Did something happen?"

Akira snorted, “Forgot your own birthday already? You  _ are  _ getting old."

“My…? Ah! I didn’t realize that was today.”

"I thought you wouldn’t. Which is why I thought I’d catch you before you left. You really need to get a life outside of work, Goro," Akira chided, waving a whisk at the detective before turning back to the counter to continue his preparations. 

Goro responded by wrapping his arms around the former thief, leaning close to plant a feather-light kiss on the other man’s cheek before resting his chin on Akira’s shoulder, "I already do. I've got you, haven't I?"

Akira merely hummed in response, but he melted into the touch anyway. He spent a moment, silent, soaking in the other man’s presence. “Of course. I just wish I saw you more often. I swear I’d forget what you look like if it I didn’t see your face on the news every now and then.”

“I’m sorry,” the detective whispered back, his arms tightening around the other man. “You know how work likes to keep me away. That, and getting used to university, and, I—” 

“I know. Let’s leave this at that for now. I’m just glad to see you.” Akira spent a few more seconds in Goro’s embrace before he pulled himself free and swatted the detective away. Goro retreated back to the safety of the small breakfast table, sheepish and a little red-faced. 

“Still, I apologize. I really do want nothing more than to spend more time with you. Perhaps we can go on a trip after this case is over? Just the two of us?” 

“I’d love that,” Akira smiled softly. He poured out a cup of today’s brew, Goro’s usual, and set the steaming mug in front of the detective.  

“Thank you. Ah, this smells heavenly.” Goro leaned over the steaming mug, breathing in the earthy aroma of his coffee. He ran a finger around its rim, but made no move to drink. “What did you have in mind for today?”

“I remembered you said something about wanting to try this one shop’s shortcake. But the wait lines were too long, and they only sell 30 pieces of it per day, and you never have time in your schedule,” Akira replied as he pulled out another bowl from one of the cupboards and started digging through the fridge. “Well, I managed to track it down, but the place hasn’t gotten any less popular since you mentioned them on your food blog.”

Goro’s eyes widened, surprised, “I shut down that blog months ago! How did you even— oh right, you asked Futaba?”

Akira hung his head, “I owe her one now. Well, her and Ann. Did you know Ann has, like, near encyclopedic knowledge of all the cake shops in Shibuya?. It’s almost scary. She took one look at that picture you posted and pointed me in the right direction, even with all the filters you’ve put on that thing.” 

Goro scoffed, indignant, but let the jab pass. “And I suppose you braved all that just to get that cake for me? My hero.”

“Uh no. I thought I’d try to make them myself. Romantic, right?” Akira’s grinning face finally 

emerged from the fridge, a carton of cream in his hands, which he placed on the counter. He twirled his bangs around his fingers as his gaze switched from Goro to the mess of batter on the counter and on to the black lumps that sat in the kitchen bin. “As you can see, that… really didn’t work out like I hoped.”

There was a moment of awkward silence, before it was broken by the sound of Goro’s laughter. Akira huffed as the detective doubled over, his hand slamming onto the table in mirth, light enough to avoid jostling his mug, and hardly causing a ripple on his coffee’s surface. Still giggling, Goro struggled to regain his composure as he tried to appease the pouting man. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh at you,” he said, wiping a few tears forming at the edge of his eyes, “I just… I wasn’t expecting you to go this far for me. You truly never fail to surprise me, Akira.”

“Oh, the surprise isn’t over. Cake’s out of the question now, but I’ve got another idea.” With a flourish, Akira pulled a skillet from a cupboard and set it on the stove. “Might as well get you those  _ delicious pancakes _ you were looking forward to.”

Goro groaned, ducking his head to hide his reddening face from view, but the spread of his blush went all the way up to his exposed ears. “Shut up.”

Akira grinned back cheekily and busied himself with cooking. He could hear Goro absently tapping his fingers on the table as browsed through the front page of the newspaper beside him. The ex-thief poured out a perfect circle of batter into the pan, and waited for it to cook, until he soon had a tall stack arranged onto a waiting plate.

“I should be done here soon. I just need to whip the cream and get the toppings out, and we can eat,” he called over his shoulder, catching Goro’s attention, “Unless you want to give me a hand?”

“Asking me to work on my own birthday present? You’re cute.” Goro smiled back coyly, still leaning comfortably on the table. “You know I can’t do that. While your faith in my culinary skill is touching, but perhaps we shouldn’t tempt fate a second time,” he said, looking pointedly at Akira’s earlier failure.

“Fair enough,” Akira shrugged, already taking out the berries from the freezer and making for the hand mixer. He cursed when the mixer refused to turn, grabbing the whisk and furiously working the cream by hand. 

“I’ve been thinking about what you said before,” Akira said as he worked. “It sounded like you’ve had your share of bad birthdays. Well today, I wanted to change that.” He transferred the cream into a small pastry bag and piped a generous mound on top of the stack. “I know it’s  _ your  _ birthday, but do you mind if I make a wish too?”

The tapping stopped, but the detective didn’t reply.

Undeterred by the silence, Akira continued, eyes fully focused on his creation. He placed a few smaller dollops around the sides of the plate.

“I wish you knew how special you are to me.”

He opened the small plastic container of strawberries, cutting them into little stars and arranging them against the little piles of cream.

“I wish I got to know you sooner.” 

He dropped a handful of blueberries over the arrangement, ignoring how a few bounced off the plate and into the ground, and finished it off with a drizzle of dark chocolate syrup.

“I wish I could have helped you.”

Akira set the plate of pancakes on the table, in front of the lone chess piece by a cup of cold coffee. Goro Akechi smiled at him, his face printed on the newspaper beside it, opened to a small ad asking for information about the missing high school detective. 

“Happy birthday, Goro. I wish you were here with me.”

**Author's Note:**

> This concept came to me after seeing [this art](https://twitter.com/crotchetrest123/status/1135145905231785984), followed by [this](https://twitter.com/gramophoneturtl/status/1134981204850036737). I had to fight down the urge to call this fic 'pancakes with ghosts'. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Yell at me in the comments or on my twitter [@hereliesandy](https://twitter.com/hereliesandy).


End file.
